Tarnished Silver Faded Gold: Exchange
by Hellen Highwater
Summary: Part I of a series of drabbles featuring Severus and Minerva's friendship. Gifts. Oneshot, no pairings.


**Tarnished Silver; Faded Gold**

E X C H A N G E

_Part One_

…_he thought it was only fair._

Severus Snape was not a man who often received many Christmas presents. There were more years than he cared to remember when he had not received any. He had no living relatives, and the few friends he had once been close enough to exchange gifts with were now jailed as Death Eaters or dead. As long as he had been working at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had always given him some practical item for the holiday, but the headmaster had died over three years ago. The only remaining person who reliably gave him a Christmas gift was the unexpected Minerva McGonagall.

He had never planned on getting along with the stern head of Gryffindor, but she had taken him under her wing (so subtly that he had not even noticed until years later, which was impressive for a Gryffindor) when he first began teaching. As time passed and he became a capable instructor in his own right, he discovered that the old professor had an intellect that rivaled his own (and he was the youngest potions master in recorded history, so this was no mean feat) and a underhanded cunning that was astonishing in one of the Gryffindors he so loathed. But Minerva McGonagall was always exceptional. Hermione Granger had not been the first to be heralded as the 'brightest witch of her generation.'

While his primary haunt was the dungeons, Severus Snape could be found, precisely at eight o'clock every second Friday evening, at the door of the Gryffindor Head's personal rooms, a copy of _Research Weekly _in his hand. Ten minutes later would find them settled in their preferred seats in Minerva's living room, sipping a cuppa. Severus always claimed a dark burgundy leather armchair, while Minerva arranged herself neatly in a high-backed red velvet chair. They were nothing if not creatures of exacting habit. The two of them poured over the Wizarding World's only publication on magical research and development, discussing recent discoveries and debating the merits of the latest theories. If conversation wandered into their personal lives, neither commented, listening and giving advice as appropriate. And if several years of this practice led to Severus occasionally knocking on Minerva's door on days that were not Friday, seeking to clear his troubled mind, Minerva never indicated that it bothered her. And if shortly after his first visit on a not-Friday, McGonagall had returned the favor, appearing at the door to his quarters with a heavy thoughts, he thought it was only fair.

But the crux of the matter was that of all the people in Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall was the only one Severus Snape would even consider as a friend.

And no, you would never hear him say so out loud.

* * *

**Tarnished Silver; Faded Gold**

E X C H A N G E

_Part Two_

…_he undid the crimson ribbon holding it closed, and lifted the gold-wrapped lid._

He never bothered with a tree. There was no point. It would shed needles everywhere, and he had no ornaments to put on it, and the single gift he received from one Minerva McGonagall hardly needed a whole tree to shelter it.

Instead, it appeared reliably on his kitchen table at exactly six fifteen on Christmas Eve, when he ate breakfast, as she very well knew.

This year it did not appear. He ate his whole breakfast (two slices of toast, buttered, and a glass of orange juice) and it did not come.

Some strange emotion welled in his chest. For a moment, he sat at his table, staring forlornly at his crumb covered plate. He tried desperately to place the unfamiliar emotion, as though naming it would remove its power. Disappointment? Hurt?

Suddenly coming to his senses, Severus snorted. What was he doing, sitting here like an abandoned child? It was a foolish Christmas gift, he was a grown man. He had never even gone so far as to think of Minerva as a friend, preferring to not place a label on their relationship. And while she had initiated their tradition of interrupting each other's Christmas Eve breakfast with a gift, and he had always returned the favor with a gift of his own (painstakingly chosen) she had no obligation to continue it. Except that -irrationally-he _wanted_ her to.

He was still glaring at the crumbs of his toast when someone knocked on his door.

Surprised, he rose less gracefully than usual when he went to answer it. There, in all her stiff glory, gold wrapped gift cradled delicately in her arms, stood Minerva McGonagall.

"I wanted to deliver this in person," she explained as she swept past him into his chambers. She placed the large box on his coffee table and took her normal seat, an emerald wingback. She waited for her counterpart to take his own chair before continuing, "The _History of Advanced Animal Transfiguration_ was lovely, Severus, and I'll make good use of those potions you made me. Some of those are rather hard to make."

Awkwardly, he nodded in return-he was unused to being thanked for anything, even if Minerva was always careful to do so, as though trying to make up for all the times he had done so much unappreciated. She gave him one of here rare true smiles, understanding.

"I'd like you to open this now, if you don't mind. But be careful, it's …fragile."

Arching an eyebrow curiously, Severus took the box from the table, feeling the weight inside shifting unevenly. Placing it on his black-garbed lap, he undid the crimson ribbon holding it closed, and lifted the gold-wrapped lid.

"You _didn't_," he whispered, horrified, as his mind caught up with what he was seeing.

"I did," she said gleefully, and he glanced at her before returning his gaze to her gift.

"But a _kitten_, Minerva?"

Admittedly, as far as kittens went, this was a rather handsome, well-behaved one. Solid silver-grey in color, it had thick, long, fur and a pluming tail nearly twice its size. Pale green eyes glittered with intelligence, and it sat neatly with its tail wrapped around its tiny paws, regarding him skeptically.

"It's part kneazle, very independent. Long-lived, and smart, too. She'll do you good, Severus."

"'She'?"

"She's female." The kitten in question yawned.

"Where did you buy her?"

"It doesn't matter, they have a no-return policy. She's even Slytherin colors."

Severus groaned, resting his aching head in his hands. The kitten hopped out of the box and perched atop his head. He didn't bother to remove her, despite knowing how ridiculous he looked. Minerva had seen him worse.

"I am going to find a Hufflepuff," he warned the other teacher, "And I am going to order them to keep this kitten."

Minerva roared with laughter, only barely managing to stammer out "Merry Christmas, Severus."

* * *

**Tarnished Silver; Faded Gold**

E X C H A N G E

_Part Three_

_She almost dropped the box, and only instinct made her grab it to keep it from falling._

He never did find that Hufflepuff. The kitten stayed in Severus's quarters. After two nights of watching him have nightmares (and had _seen _her watching, green eyes staring out of the darkness when he bolted upright, gasping from his dreams) the kitten had curled up on his chest after he settled in to bed, and purred.

All.

Night.

Long.

It took him a while to fall asleep, but he had slept deeply and without dreams for the first time he could remember. This continued every night. After a week, he accepted the inevitable and named the kitten Morpheus. As time passed, he grew to welcome the quiet companionship of his feline roommate. And while he would never voice it, he was glad that Minerva had given her to him.

Time to return the favor.

The pet shop he visited had a decent selection, and the animal he selected was even Gryffindor colored. He bought a month's worth of food and all the necessary supplies. When Morpheus hissed at his new purchase, he told her (and when, he wondered, had he started talking to a cat?) that it was only temporary, this new pet would be off to his new master tomorrow.

Tomorrow was Minerva's birthday.

Severus went to sleep with a satisfied smirk on his face (and a kitten purring on his chest.)

He knocked on her door at six thirty, box in his arms and kitten twining around his ankles. The students of Hogwarts had taken quite a while to become used to their dour potions professor wandering about accompanied by the most adorable kitten they had ever seen, but the end of the war had revealed that Severus Snape was not at all who they believed him to be.

She opened the door promptly, because she was expecting him-this was their birthday tradition.

He put his box on her coffee table, sat back in his burgundy armchair, and smirked.

She stared at him warily, in her red velvet seat, but hesitantly put the box on her lap and untied the green bow. She almost dropped the box, and only instinct made her grab it to keep it from falling.

"_Severus!" _She shrieked.

He smirked.

"This is a _snake_!"

"Excellent observation, Minerva. Really, I had thought you would be a little quicker."

And indeed it was. Red and gold scales gleamed satisfied from a four-and-a-half foot body. Coiled comfortably in the box, it didn't even spare the panicking human with a second glance. It was warm here; it wasn't moving.

"He is a South American Sorcerer's Python. He eats two mice every seven to ten days, and he'll probably live another twenty years."

"_Snake!" _she repeated. He frowned. Was she really so terrified?

"Minerva, he's not even poisonous. His teeth are less than a millimeter long, and he's very lazy. He can't possibly hurt you."

"What am I supposed to _do _with him?"

Severus shrugged. "Pick him up."

"What!"

He sighed, and rose from his comfortable chair. Reaching into the box, he lifted the coils of serpent with both hands. Welcoming the warmth of his body, the snake wrapped lightly around his right arm. "Here," he said, reaching towards her, "touch him."

Hesitantly, Minerva ran her thin fingers down the scaly body. It was dry to the touch, hard with muscle, and warm. It was like touching a leather jacket someone had just taken off and was still warm with body heat. The snake didn't even move. More confidently, Minerva laid her full hand against him.

"Here," Severus said, and shifted the snake from his arm to hers. She froze, expecting…something…but the snake only moved a little, getting comfortable.

"It's actually not so bad." she said, surprised.

"Take him with both hands and put him around your neck," Severus suggested. Minerva hesitated, but slowly did as she was told.

The snake slithered briefly, tickling lightly, and then tightened just enough to keep from falling off. Astonished, Minerva stroked its tail lightly.

"It's like being hugged." she told her younger counterpart, amazed. He shrugged lightly, uncomfortable with the subject.

"I suppose."

Minerva abruptly remembered the type of childhood Severus Snape had had. And abusive father, a vacant mother, bullied at school and rejected by his classmates. She stood, careful not to jostle her passenger, and hugged the dark man, moving slowly enough that he could avoid her if he wanted. He didn't, and after a moment, Minerva stepped back.

"Thank you," she said honestly.

He smirked at her. "You won't be thanking me when you're feeding him live mice."

"_What! _Severus!"

"Happy Birthday, Minerva."

**A/N: Harry potter's not mine, of course. This is set in an AU where Severus survived the war. I just had this mental picture of Severus staring at a kitten, disgusted, while Minerva stared horrified at a snake. I love the two of them as friends.**

**About the snake-as far as I know, no suck species exists. But I have handled ball pythons before, and I love them so much. I have never had any phobia of snakes, and the first time I had one around my neck the first thing I said was "it's like wearing a hug!" which is surprisingly true. **

**Please review!**

**~Sylvr**


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